Thunderstruck
by Kikasu Utagoe
Summary: Director Fury sends Iron Man and Captain America on what seems like a blue milk run. Nothing goes as planned on the short recon mission, however. How will the two deal with the tension as they find themselves shipwrecked, cold, and... finally alone? Stony. One-shot. Tension, fluff and smut.


He scratched his itching, brine-caked arms and buried his feet in the cold, rocky island's wet, sandy beach. He winced and watched, still dazed, as Tony Stark ran from one end of the beach to the other, frantically pressing buttons on all his soaked electronics, yelling "JARVIS, JARVIS, come in!" to no avail. Steve frowned, suddenly aware of the danger they were in. Without any other land in sight, the two were shipwrecked on a windy, northern island – approximately 250 miles northwest off the shore of Scotland, or so Cap estimated, based on recollections of the previous night's maelstrom.

"I'm telling you, Cap, this storm wasn't earthly. It was definitely an attack!" Tony yelled at the seated Captain as he paced by nervously. "All my communications are down. All of them. I thought I had my PDA made water-resistant but I guess I must've never expected being _shipwrecked._"

"Hold on," Steve murmured, still feeling a surge of pain in his temples and his leg which had a foot-long gash running along it, "you're trying to tell me that, what, Thor called in a storm that smashed our boat?"

"Yes, Cap," Tony retorted, as if nothing in the world was equally obvious.

"Now, why would he do that? He's our ally, am I right?"

Tony averted his gaze from Steve's confused expression and shivered as a freezing, humid wind howled along the rocky island. Stark scratched his chin uncertainly before he was hit with a violent realization, just as the island was slapped with a boat-sized tide.

"_Oh_," was all he said, and he repeated the word a few times.

Steve raised his eyebrows questioningly and met the hazel-eyed inventor's gaze as he muttered, "That Shakespearean son of a – "

"Why?" Steve pressed on, puzzled as ever.

Mentally, Tony Stark was back in his tower, a few days prior. He was sitting back, relaxed, talking to all the gathered Avengers about the "pointless little boat mission" that Fury was sending him and Captain America on. "Just recon regarding some pagan Nordic activity, with potential supernatural consequences," the billionaire explained to the gathered mad scientist, demi-god and pair of master assassins. The blonde giant laughed heartily, and roared, "Thou shouldst rather say, 'a sail of bonding and romance of the two lovebirds'!" to which the remaining team members responded with snickers and knowing smiles. Tony reddened slightly, but certainly only due to the two glasses of fine Chardonnay he had just drank– yet, somehow, he was still thankful the Captain hadn't been present at the moment.

"So that's it," Stark concluded, his thoughts back on the island, in the present pickle he'd found himself in. He sighed, and turned around, "Steve – "

The Captain was nowhere to be seen.

Tony sighed. He hated this. He hated when it happened. The stupid supersoldier was always on the move, always going out downtown, or up to the roof to paint an aerial view of New York, or off for a spar with Thor. It's not like Tony was _jealous_ – he rolled his eyes at the sheer thought as it formed in his head – it's just that he was fond of the guy, and it seemed Stark was always at some meeting or down in the lab whenever the First Avenger was actually available for a chat, or any other activity.

"Besides," Tony scoffed to himself as he scaled the rocky slopes in search for Steve, "what would I even do with the guy? Sure, it was nice talking to him about my father, the war, and how the world has changed, but other than that we've nothing in common. The God of Thunder is fun to have a drink with, Clint's always up for a game of movie and pop-culture trivia, Natasha is… perfect to worship from afar and Bruce is one of the rare people who could enthuse about practical uses of stellar nucleosynthesis with me. But Steve?"

He'd reached the top of a mossy cliff which overlooked the entire island. He squinted his eyes against the wind-borne sea spray and realised it wasn't very large – even in the foggy and misty conditions it was entirely within his line of sight. The coast appeared to be covered in sheer rock and jagged cliffs, which made Tony very glad he and Steve had washed up on the sandiest, least rocky shore. The centre of the clearly volcanic island was basin-shaped and steaming with hot springs that sprouted from the barren landscape, much like the scarce heather bushes. Tony concluded that although Steve was nowhere to be seen, he _had _to be somewhere down there, and the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist set off towards the geysers in his soaked pair of Edward Green Oxfords which squeaked with every step.

After the battle for New York, nothing had been quite the same. Maybe Tony was just overexerting himself, trying to fit in time for working, inventing, taking care of S.H.I.E.L.D. business, and… socialising. Things swerved quite quickly from "we're a time-bomb" to "we're all friends" and Tony suddenly found himself wondering when he'd become such a chummy guy who enjoyed Friday pizza nights and chilling with the crew and –

"S-Steve?!" Stark stuttered incredulously.

He opened his blue eyes slowly, the hot air and mist casting a hazy glow around him. His sandy blond hair was plastered to his flushed face, his arms were folded behind his back and he sat in the bubbling pool casually, everything below his prominent pectoral muscles submerged in the teal waters. A slow smile crept its way across his face and he casually said, "Hey, Tony."

"Yeah, hey," the inventor said, still flustered, his eyes scanning the tattered trousers and shirt lying at the edge of the hot-water spring, and then fluttering up and down the supersoldier's torso, until he regained his senses. He crossed his arms and shook his head indignantly, "You could've told me you're chilling in a hot spring while I froze my balls off by the shore, looking for you. Thanks a bunch."

That sobered him up. "I'm sorry," he looked genuinely concerned, "I was gonna hop in for a dip and get right back to you to show you this killer-diller pool, Mr. Stark."

"Cut the crap, Rogers," Tony cut in cynically, trying to hide the effect Cap's puppy eyes were having on him.

"Aw, don't be a sour grape," Steve smiled apologetically and then beckoned towards the geyser, "get outta your Gucci and drop those stompers, you'll feel better in here."

"_Did Captain America just tell me to strip?_" Tony's eyes widened at how casually Steve had literally invited him into what looked like one of Mother Nature's finest Jacuzzis. Hesitant, he considered his options – standing out in the open, being blown asunder by strong, freezing cold Northern winds seemed a lot less appealing than hopping into a hot tub with Cap. Without saying a word he slipped off the ripped, black jacket and started unbuttoning the intact button-up shirt he had underneath. "_Should've worn something more comfortable,_" he cursed under his breath, struggling to get the wet clothes off. He glanced down briefly and – by God – had this not been Captain America he was talking about, he would've sworn he'd been… checking him out. Steve's eyes were closed now, though, and Tony decided he was probably just seeing things. After some internal debating – and checking up on their state – the Man of Iron decided to remove all of his clothing save for his loose, black boxer shorts. He gracefully hopped down into the spring and sat on a submerged rocky shelf just a foot or so away from Steve.

"I don't think we can do anything but wait," the blond said, looking in Stark's eyes as he tilted his head to the side.

"You don't say," Tony rolled his eyes, "I thought we were gonna build a raft."

"We could."

"Idiot."

Steve closed his eyes again, hot steam swirling around his wet hair as the water formed little whirlpools around the two men's bodies. Tony found himself virtually breathless being this close to a nearly-naked Cap, but then again, it was probably just the heat.

Captain America opened his eyes, looking at the stormy skies up above them, and then down at Tony. "Hot in here."

"Yeah," he agreed from under his flattened, brown curls.

After a short silence, Steve smiled and confessed, "I've always been fascinated by it," pointing to the Arc Reactor, and then moving one of his hands to trace the perfect, titanium circle which emitted that famous, cerulean glow, "it's such advanced technology. And it's your trademark. And it looks rather dapper," he added with a charming expression.

Completely blown away by the compliment and Cap's interest, Tony's jaw dropped, but not for long. "It's just technology, Prince Charming," Tony snapped, "not that you'd understand."

Although Steve had grown used to the way Stark showed his love, his eyebrows still pulled together and his lips twitched just enough to be noticeable, and Tony was almost feeling bad for having insulted the seventy-year-old virgin.

"Rogers, I…" he began, his brain screaming an unspoken '_…am totally falling for you_', but switched to, "…am really glad you've come to live in the Tower with me."

"With _you_?"

"I mean, with us. With all of us," Tony corrected himself, nervously.

"Right…" Steve said.

"_Is that regret in his voice?!" _Tony was certainly losing it. It was evidently not a good idea for a man of his age, in his condition, to be sitting in water this warm… next to a man this hot.

"Are you alright, Tony?" Steve asked with a motherly tone in his voice, shifting his entire upper body and tilting his head to get a better view of Tony, whose eyes were half-closed. "Tony?" he repeated, cupping the man's face with a strong hand and making him face the supersoldier.

Tony's vision was hazy, and his eyes swam sideways as if he were drunk. Instead of exiting the hot spring, however, Stark leaned forward and pressed his lips against Steve's. Rogers opened his eyes wide and Tony nearly chortled. "_Most action you've been getting since the War, huh, big guy?_" he thought, slowly pulling away, and realising what he'd just done. But Steve wasn't removing the hand that was still cupping the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist's face. In fact, he closed his eyes slowly, smiled, and kissed Tony back. Stark wasn't in the mood for wasting time, and certainly not in the mood for wasting this opportunity – he stretched out his hand to touch Cap's chest, and explore it thoroughly. It was so tense, every muscle – and there were a few – pulsing with energy, his heart thumping. Stark then felt a hand caressing his scrawnier chest, stroking the Arc Reactor, which elicited strange, electrical sensations around the man's body. The silence was broken only by the howling wind, hissing hot-water springs and mutual gasping for air.

Tony shifted to sit atop Steve's lap, straddling him with his body. Their kisses and caresses roughened, and Steve found himself moaning gutturally and nearly growling as Stark bit Cap's lower lip, and continued by nibbling the man's jawline, finally settling his mouth on Steve's tense neck. He kissed it, parting his lips every now and again to allow his tongue to flick at Rogers' hot skin.

"I want you," the blond one confessed in between moans, gripping at fistfuls of Tony's curls and tugging at them relentlessly. Stark just moved his mouth lower, ever so slowly, to gnaw at Cap's collarbones and leave him panting. Tony moved his head back just to admire the red marks he'd left on the Captain's body, but found himself being picked up and slammed onto the rock shelf Steve had been on literally a second earlier.

Steve went in for a quick, open-mouthed kiss and then began forming a trail of hard kisses all the way from Stark's bearded chin, down to his Adam's apple, down to the little niche where his voice-box was which quivered with every moan, down his sternum, through to his pulsing Arc Reactor. The supersoldier lashed out at the device with his tongue, making Tony shiver with pleasure and arc his back. The trail continued down his body as Steve submerged his head underwater and kept kissing him lower and lower, until he was biting the elastic band of Stark's boxer shorts, pulling them down. Tony's hips bucked, allowing Cap to remove the unnecessary clothing completely, and rise back to the surface, gasping for air with a smug expression on his face.

Tony reached over to grab Steve's manhood at the same time that he felt a strong, coarse hand wrap itself around Stark's member and start gliding back and forth slowly. As confident as he had been before, Rogers was now blushing profoundly, his cheeks completely flushed and his ears pink. Awareness of being the very first to ever touch America's first Avenger descended upon Tony as he yanked down Steve's briefs, tossing them into the depths of the pool, and he eyed the treasure before him. He began working it rhythmically with both hands while having his own eyes roll back with pleasure as Steve increased the tempo on Stark's erection. They looked each other straight in the eye, a collision of crystal blue and hazel brown which seemed to resonate through the universe as they picked up the pace, and fell back into a passionate kiss. Moans kept escaping both of their mouths, their backs taut and muscles clenched until they both fell into a state of deep ecstasy, eventually climaxing into each other's hands.

Still breathing heavily, Steve pulled himself out of the pool, "I think I need to catch my breath."

"Me too," Tony replied, simply.

They sat shivering, stark naked in the icy wind, right next to each other, their sides touching. Cap tilted his head to the side to rest it atop Stark's.

Tony opened his mouth, as if to say, out of habit: "Look, man, it was nice, but I'm not the type to stay over and cuddle," but ended up closing his mouth and letting the supersoldier embrace him. Completely unabashed and surprisingly comfortable, Stark looked at the way the Arc Reactor reflected a cool glow on Steve's chest. It all felt so natural. Too natural. Too comfortable. Despite of his frequent exploits, Tony had never actually let anybody in like this.

But instead of fear, he felt reassurance. These huge, rock-hard arms which held him in a way that made him feel as if they were custom-made for holding him, also made him feel completely shielded from any negative emotion, whether it came from outside or within. He was so insanely at peace, given the dire situation, and so incredibly at home, despite being stranded on a desert island with absolutely no means of sending an SOS, Stark was convinced he'd fallen asleep when he first entered the steamy hot spring and this is all some elaborate fantasy – which, mind you, he shouldn't be having.

But Steve's voice broke the silence. "Anthony," he began, "this was amazing." This elicited a smile on Tony's face, and he continued, "in fact, _you're_ amazing. And… I know I'm a bit of a fuddy-duddy geezer, while you're the leading thermonuclear physicist – whatever that means – on this planet. But it's a gas whenever I'm with you, regardless of how rare that actually happens, and… I've found myself getting' togged to the bricks just to catch your eye, Mister Stark. But you make me feel cozy 'n' warm, which isn't something I get very often in this grotty new world."

Tony's eyes lit up. Aside from the annoying 1940s lingo Howard had always used, these were some of the warmest words he'd ever heard. He wished he weren't so totally dumbstruck but he couldn't help but smile and kiss Cap's forehead. And there were a thousand things to think of, and a thousand problems waiting to be solved, but right now _he _was with him, and nothing could ever go wrong.

Steve sat just behind Tony, as to shield him from most of the biting wind, and rest his chin on the billionaire's head. Stark looked over to the horizon, where a ceaseless tumult of stormy clouds brewed and bustled. Barely audibly, he whispered, "Thanks."

Thunder rumbled in the distance.


End file.
